


Graduation (Friends Forever) Lyrics

by foolscapper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 05:05:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10236512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolscapper/pseuds/foolscapper
Summary: Prompt: At the end of everything, Sam goes to college and graduates. Dean is supportive.





	

“I’ve always hated these hats,” Sam mumbles, fidgeting with the dark green square fit snugly on his skull; it’s leaving his locks untamed and curling out every which way around his jaw, and he has to spit a lock before he settles on just tying his hair back completely. He had never looked forward to graduating Stanford, really, but not because he didn’t yearn for it — no, no, it was all about having to walk in front of people in these stupid hats. Dean stares for a moment at Sam with a raised brow before carefully reaching over and adjusting it.   
  
“Yeah, well, deal. You’re graduating, aren’t you? Not as cool as my GED, but…”  
  
Sam snerks glancing back toward the college campus; not as big as Stanford, not as well-renowned, but he doesn’t really care about that anymore. Goals shift, you know? He’s lucky enough that Castiel pulled a few cords for him, used some of that angelic prowess to wipe their records clean, remove footage of a 5 o'clock news report of two men gunning down a room of people (and Cas admittedly felt… guilty about that whole thing; Leviathans, you know how it is). The people who remember Sam Winchester won’t ever know he’s about to walk up there… Hell, he’s damn lucky he can even show his face like this in front of so many people, at the end of it all. They’re gonna say his name up there. And it’s going to be for a good reason for once. That’s something he’s always wanted, deep down, something he couldn’t admit without feeling needy. He needed someone to bless his name, give it something good after its been dragged through all that shit. Sam Winchester. He wants to be proud of that name, someday. It’s him and…  
  
He blows out a breath, leaning from foot to foot. If it were Dean, he’d strut up there like he was hot shit, pluck up that diploma, and then do some cheesy stupid thing before he left.   
  
Sam’s never been so easy in the middle of attention, preferred to be smaller than his height ever permitted him past the age of seventeen.   
  
Dean flicks him on the edge of his green cap, gathering his younger brother’s attention as he pats off Sam’s shoulders like he’s got dirt there. He doesn’t, but Dean sees something there that needs to be swept away regardless.   
  
“You got this. Alright? You’re gonna get this.”  
  
Hazel eyes meet hazel, and Sam nods. Dean’s got stronger crows feet, and his face always seems to grow a little more gaunt each passing year; then again, Sam’s does, too, he’s pretty sure. Angular, old men, if you can count your late forties as old. For hunters, yeah. For Winchesters who have decades of added time under their belts, abso- _fucking_ -lutely. Dean hesitates, like he wants to say something more, though him just being here and backing Sam up… feels good. It’s all Sam needs. If there’s just one more thing Dean could offer, it’s this, and despite Dean’s awkward hesitance Sam is smiling a little.  
  
“You trying to remember a speech from some sports movie or something, coach?”  
  
Dean shoves at him half-heartedly, looking mildly embarrassed. “ _Asshole_.”  
  
“An asshole who’ll be teaching their extended knowledge history and lore to your lame ass.” He cocks his head. “… So basically, nothing’s changed.”  
  
“Nothing but my footprint on your ass; get a move on.”  
  
 _Right._ Getting a move on. Sam starts drifting toward the throngs of fellow graduates, glancing back despite the voice in his head telling him not to — it’s not like he wants Dean to know how important it is. It’s not like he’s yearning for that acceptance, that this is okay, that it’ll all work out and nothing is wrong with walking up there and listening to his name spoken with campus pride, and nothing’s wrong with looking out there knowing someone’s watching him and is glad he’s up there, and he knows he doesn’t exactly deserve it with all the shit they’ve done through the years, even if it wasn’t all bad; because it _wasn’t_ , but… —  
  
He looks back, seeing that Dean hasn’t moved at all, watching Sam go with his arms folded and his shoulder leaded against the campus flagpole. His brother motions Sam an OK gesture with his hand, though, and Sam thinks maybe it really will all be okay, in the end.


End file.
